


It may not be blood (but it is love)

by Abyssiniana



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Found Family, Gen, Homelessness, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:41:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23535448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abyssiniana/pseuds/Abyssiniana
Summary: Sam couldn’t blame the bluntness. Stories of orphan kids too young getting mixed up in the wrong crowd weren’t unheard of. Boys and girls in the system grew to become thieves, suffering from rape, murder, and even darker themes which were covered under “unfortunate accidents” and never brought to light for what they truly were. Crimes of neglect. Of kids too bright to be facing the world alone, a world that dulls their shine until all that’s left is a shell of what they could have been.He could only pray for Takashi’s safety.__in which Takashi Shirogane finds a family with the Holts.
Relationships: Colleen Holt/Sam Holt, Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 65





	1. Chapter 1

“Dad? Why are there people sleeping on the streets?”

That was a tough question for Samuel Holt to answer. Not because there wasn’t any way to get around the topic, but rather because it was so direct. His son was a perceptive boy even at the tender age of five, inquiring with the sole purpose of satisfying his inherited passion for learning. It reminded him of himself, in a way  ―  ever curious, always unsatisfied until he turned a subject inside out to fully understand it.

“Isn’t it too cold to be outside?” Matt pressed on, mitten-covered hands attempting to clear out the condensation from his window, hazel eyes squinting as they tried to focus on the outside.

Sam was very proud of Matt. 

“There are kids too...”

But looking at the rear-view mirror to see Matt tucked in his safety seat, he wondered how he should go about explaining a social issue such as homelessness and poverty to such a young child. It was a good thing that Matt had been the one to bring it up, but it caught him by surprise on the way home after a long day at work. What was the right way to reveal that not all children were as fortunate as him to have a home? Loving parents, a caring family, a safe place, guaranteed food on the table every day… Not to mention the complications that followed the war.

He ought to keep the explanation as brief as possible, simple in its inherent complexity and while at that, his duty as a parent also consisted of imparting his sensibilities; he should teach his son that there were things they could do to help. That some non-profit associations in town accepted monetary donations, or some clothes, food, toys and hygiene items to distribute among the most unfortunate.

“Well…” he began, like he would any other sentence, hands tightening around the wheel with a tension he hoped to not let through his words. “It’s a very sad thing, but—”

“Dad, he looks like he’s dead.”

At those words, Samuel Holt stepped on the brakes. The two occupants of the car jolted in their seats. The car drifted only a little with the rapidly melting snow on the road. The suddenness made Matt gasp in his child seat, the safety belt avoiding a more violent outcome, but even so, Sam reached behind, bony hand resting on his son’s knee.

“I’m sorry, sweet pea, you alright there?” 

Matt nodded immediately, and Sam sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. There weren’t any other cars on the street, gladly, lest he’d have caused a chain accident and risked his son’s and his own life. Fat raindrops fell on the windshield like shattering rocks as the rainstorm the weather channel had predicted approached. The lined-up streetlights in the distance and the low volume radio prolonged the silence of a heart that forgot how to beat, delaying the time it took for Sam to ground himself and park just by the sidewalk.

“Where did you see them, Mattie?” It was hard enough to see in the bare darkness, let alone with the rain staining his glasses, but Matt was quick to point with his finger to the right place; a blurry stain of faded blue within walking distance.

“He was back there, dad! By the alley!”

“Stay there, okay? Do not leave the car, under any circumstance. And uh… Call mommy, wouldja, son?” He ordered as he clumsily extended his hologram phone for Matt to grab, aware that he knew the passcode backwards and forwards. “Tell her… Oh, just… tell her we’ll be home late.”

In a heartbeat, Sam opened the door, the furred collar of his jacket doing little to shield him from the wind and rain. The wind blew stronger than it seemed from inside the vehicle, guiding the rain in several directions at once with whispers that carried the promise of worsening in the course of the next few hours. 

Sam held his breath during the short time it took to run towards the figure leaning against a dumpster with a soaked blanket and even more drenched clothes. Matt was not joking when he said the kid looked dead; he certainly would wish that he were dead, rather than in the state of what looked like severe hypothermia.

“Hey. Little guy? Can you hear me?” He attempted to obtain some sort of reaction from the youngster but to no avail. His skin was near blue, eyes glassy, no strength in the fist barely holding the blanket in place — a stronger gust of wind was sure to take the cover away and the boy would have no physical capacity to chase after it. Against better judgement but prioritizing the safety of the young boy, Sam removed his jacket and placed it over the boy’s shivering shoulders.

“He’s cold as ice…” Sam observed, talking to no one in particular, but almost hoping to cause some acknowledgement.

He... wasn’t sure how to proceed; he needed to take the kid to a hospital as soon as possible, but could he simply pick him up and go? More than anything Sam didn’t want to cross any boundaries or make the boy uncomfortable… But his body moved on its own under the firm belief that any second he wasted thinking about how to proceed was a second of life stolen from the boy. He slipped his arms under him and lifted, not particularly surprised but rather shocked at how light he was.

“I’m sorry, buddy, I’m just trying to help you, alright? Please, bear with me.”

He couldn’t think of reprimanding Matt when he saw him outside of the car to open the door for him and the stranger. It was awkward to fit the boy into the back seat without getting in as well, but once he was sitting, legs all curled up over himself, Sam found him a blanket from the trunk, anything to counter the hypothermia.

The very basics he recollected from CPR courses regarding hypothermia was that he couldn’t start by warming up the extremities of the body, otherwise, the victim could go into a state of thermal shock; he had to take off the soaked clothes, and he needed to be careful to do it gradually lest he’d cause heart arrhythmia because of the heating system of the car. Sam was treading in unfamiliar territory, pressure like needles under every single one of the nerves in his body.

“The phone, Mattie,” Sam demanded, fumbling with it until he could type 911, his hand on the pale boy’s face.

_ Dad, he looks like he’s dead. _

“Oh, heavens,” he sighed as the dialling sound overlapped the accelerated beating of his heart, “Please. let him live through this.”

* * *

When Sam had first seen the child, his lips were purple from the cold. His skin was pale, pulse weak and just about to quit. He saw a boy so beaten up by life, with no light left in his eyes. He had shivered madly in Sam’s arms, then the policeman’s and then the nurse’s, the thin layers of clothing and the cheap blanket barely doing anything to warm him up. 

Now the child had regained a little colour to his naturally tanned skin. His eyes were dark grey, which somehow seemed to fit the storm he had been rescued from. 

And the child… He had a name.

“ _ Takashi Shirogane _ , you said?” he confirmed, afraid of screwing up the pronunciation of the Japanese name the first time he’d go to speak with the boy. He repeated it in his mind several times while the lady officer filled him in with the most recent updates.

The children’s aid officer nodded. “That’s correct. He says he’s nine years old, born on February 29th, somewhere in Japan, he was rather vague about the exact location. Doesn’t fit the description of any child gone missing there, much less here. Speaks perfect English, though. Besides the hypothermia, the medics found several hematomas on his body, a broken rib, and other minor injuries he’s still recovering from.”

Sam looked through the square window on the door that separated him and the officer from Takashi Shirogane and the psychologist who took notes while the boy solved a puzzle with quite a few pieces. It seemed to be forming the picture of a space shuttle.

They hadn’t been introduced yet, as of three days after the rescue; the doctors thought it was better to wait, but every day after work, Sam insisted on visiting the children’s hospital just to check upon him. It was as if he couldn’t quiet his mind to rest without seeing that he was being taken care of with his own eyes.

“I’m not surprised he can’t tell us his parents’ names, but we looked into his last name and Ryoutaro Shirogane is registered as an immigrant who, unfortunately, passed away just a year ago. Might be a grandfather, or a great-uncle by the age, though. We’re working on finding any other relatives through that link, but after the war...” The officer shook her head, and Sam didn’t have to ask further to understand what she meant.

Records had been burned, buried and forgotten, years of history and data lost to the stupidity of men. But alas, being angry about it wouldn’t fix the situation; something told Sam that if that boy was in the street in that state… no parent was out looking for him.

“Have you told him yet?” Sam asked, dreading the pause that followed, as young Takashi placed the last few puzzle pieces with ease.

“I think he already knows that, sir.”

Sam nodded. He understood, as he fidgeted with the skin around his fingernails, biting around them as a nervous tick he had developed. “What will happen to him now?”

“He’ll stay here until he’s fully healed. Then, if he’s lucky, someone will pick him up from the system. If not…” the apologetic look on the officer’s face was anything but; those eyes were of someone who had witnessed things go wrong a little more often than right. A heart that may have been hopeful at the beginning of her career had grown used to disappointment.

Sam couldn’t blame the bluntness. Stories of orphan kids too young getting mixed up in the wrong crowd weren’t unheard of. Boys and girls in the system grew to become thieves, suffering from rape, murder, and even darker themes which were covered under “unfortunate accidents” and never brought to light for what they truly were. Crimes of neglect. Of kids too bright to be facing the world alone, a world that dulls their shine until all that’s left is a shell of what they could have been.

He could only pray for Takashi’s safety.

* * *

“Any progress?” Sam scratched the hint of beard that began poking out of his chin. Just a little over two weeks had passed and he had received a call from the hospital with an invitation to finally introduce himself to Takashi Shirogane.

“Not a word since the psychologist left yesterday,” the nurse lamented, scribbling on her notes as she guided both Sam and Matt to Takashi’s room as if Sam didn’t know the way there himself already, “but at least he’s eating more regularly.”

Matt had insisted on coming as well because he wanted to meet the boy he had helped save. With his little frog rain boots and a brown hooded jacket, he skipped through the hallway, a little bag in hand filled with the candy he had wanted to bring as a gift for Takashi.

“I should warn you…” The nurse near whispered, her hand on the door handle. Matt tried to jump to peek through the window, but he was just too short. “He’s a very sensitive boy. Doesn’t talk much, doesn’t want to…  _ demand _ much of us. He’s capable of not telling us he’s in pain to avoid ‘bothering’ us. I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to be heartbroken, if he doesn’t seem immediately grateful, or if he shuts down.”

That thought held Sam’s breath. The kid seemed to be pretty sweet and polite, despite everything he had gone through — and they might never know the full extent of that. Perhaps one day he would be willing to talk and allow them to help him somehow. Sam sure wished he could be a part of this healing process, but he knew better than to impose himself if the boy didn’t want his presence.

“Takashi?” The nurse knocked and asked for permission before entering the room. “This man is Samuel Holt. You remember him?”

There was no response, just a tense jaw working around what to say. Sam couldn’t blame him and just smiled, greetings turned into a sudden gasp when he felt a shove on his leg.

“And I’m Matt!” A little enthusiastic yelp as his kid slipped past the two adults at the door to introduce himself, “I found you and my daddy saved you!”

Takashi looked startled to say the least, as he froze in place, recoiling with wide eyes. Matt jumped up to the bed before Sam could stop him, emptying the contents of the plastic bag as well as his little backpack, “I brought you my favourite candy because I didn’t know  _ your _ favourite, so I just brought  _ my _ favourite and I hope you like my favourite too, and I also didn’t know what books you liked so I brought you my favourite but you’re gonna have to give it back to me later, and this—”

Takashi seemed overwhelmed, breathing a little heavier, eyes alternating between Matt, Sam and the nurse.

“Mattie, sweetie, maybe… Take it a little easier on Takashi, would you?” Sam laughed nervously, picking his son up from the bed by slipping his hands under his armpits and setting him back on the floor. He would have to translate the little talk the nurse had had with them and put some emphasis on the fact that Takashi needed some  _ time _ . “I’m sorry. He really wanted to meet you. Couldn’t stop talking about it on the way here!”

Takashi didn’t even blink. If they didn’t know for a fact that he was human, he could be very easily mistaken with a statue.

“Pop?” Matt pouted, pretending to whisper to his dad, “You think he didn’t like the candy?”

Good grief, he should have left Matt home for their first meeting.

“I’m sure he’ll dive right into them once we leave him alone, sonny, don’t worry,” he hurriedly said, keeping his hand tight on Matt’s shoulder. No matter how much he had practised on his way there, mentally, and even the night before in the mirror, there was no predicting how the conversation would go. Sam supposed that the basic idea was to simply introduce himself, let Takashi know that he could have a friend or confidant in him if he so wished. 

It hadn’t really crossed his mind that he could be imposing on the young boy. Well, then… 

“If you’re not comfortable, we can leave. Mattie wanted you to have those things and,” he brought forward a paper bag he carried with some clothing he had bought for Takashi: simple jeans and two t-shirts, along with some underwear and a pair of shoes. “It’s not much, but should you feel like dropping the hospital gown, you can wear these.”

At least Takashi blinked at that, before slapping the long black fringe off his face. His hair was… incredibly straight and silky looking, something Sam supposed had to do with his Japanese heritage. But that was a face that deserved to be seen, and preferably with a smile on it. Maybe Takashi would like to get a haircut some time; or he could get him an elastic band, if that was more of his style, they’d have to discuss it at one point.

_ You’re doing it again _ , Sam thought.  _ Assuming you’re going to tend for this kid. _

It was dangerous for him to think that way.

The nurse excused herself with a phone call, and the three were left alone. He managed to make Matt sit down at the little table where a tray still full of what had probably been lunch laid and it seemed that with that distance, Takashi was able to relax at least a tiny bit; enough so that his spine wasn’t so stiff and his eyes so alert. It would take time, and quite a lot of it, for this boy to be fully comfortable around other people.

“I don’t know what the nurses or the doctors told you, but I do know that you’re tired of answering questions,” Sam attempted, making sure that he had his hands in Takashi’s line of sight, trying not to make gestures too abruptly. It was a little like coaxing a wild deer off of the road and back into the safety of the woods. “So let me just start by reversing the roles and answer  _ your  _ questions. How does that sound?”

A half-shrug seemed to be more of an answer than most people had obtained from him, so Sam was glad to see the barely-there indication. As patiently as he possibly could, Sam waited, avoiding to overload the boy with a heavy or a too-long gaze upon him, letting him breathe and giving him space to gather himself.

Matt was a well-behaved boy, sitting on top of his own hands as if to keep them from moving against his childish will, legs swinging playfully to the rhythm of a song only he knew. That motion was the centre of Takashi’s attention for a long while. Just when Sam thought that he was about to part his lip with a few words, Matt stuck his little tongue out.

“He’s looking at me, Pop!” He laughed out loud, “I think he wants to play!”

As he saw Takashi retract again, Sam wished he had packed some duct tape to seal his son’s snarky mouth.

He would never do such a thing, no, but he really wanted the boy to trust him. Next time —should there ever be another time— he would come alone. 

Seeing the boy’s reaction, Matt frowned, cheeks puffing with air. “I guess not.”

The time he had spent trying to figure out what to say ended their visitation time; Takashi’s doctor wanted to examine his ribs before dinner, so they were escorted to the door. Matt reminded Takashi that he had to give him the book back, but assured him again and again that it was okay for him to eat all the candy because he had some for himself at home.

Sam would’ve considered the first encounter a complete, utter failure if not for one little thing, one that he would’ve missed had he not so desperately been looking for a sign: while Matt was very enthusiastically waving goodbye, Takashi’s hand twitched a little on his lap as if he too wanted to command his hand to wave back.

That was a victory.  _ Definitely a victory _ .

* * *

Takashi returned Matt’s book the next time Sam went to visit, and Matt had  _ another _ book to trade. A space encyclopedia; Sam should have guessed that would be the one. Little Mattie was as fascinated by space as his parents were. He may have rambled a little about the solar system and the things he had taught Matt. Particularly the constellations and asteroids and comets and meteors. He may have mentioned how Matt liked to run his finger across the trail of the comets in the picture book to follow the direction.

“Actually...” Takashi cleared his throat, a little smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, “Comet tail trails have nothing to do with the direction in which the comet is moving. Unlike with meteors, the tail of a comet is not the result of friction or break up. It’s caused by heat and solar wind, which melt the ice and send dust particles flying in the opposite direction. For this reason, the tail of a comet does not drag  _ behind _ it, but, rather, will always point away from the Sun.”

Samuel Holt blinked. Very slowly. In complete awe.

“That’s… that’s correct, Takashi. Very good.” He laughed when he saw the red tint on the young boy’s cheeks.  _ Incredible _ .

He made a mental note to bring some of his own books next time. They had fewer pictures, but some of them still had a fairly basic language for a nine-year-old. 

* * *

By Sam’s fourth visit, they were able to actually have a back and forth conversation. Touching was still beyond limits for Takashi (which Sam discovered when he absentmindedly patted his shoulder once), but he did play with Matt in his hospital bed, albeit silently, moving an action figure as Matt narrated the whole story out loud and moved another seven toys at the same time.

While the kids played, Sam was pulled aside to speak with the doctor who had been looking over the boy.

_ Grave news _ , he had said.

It had not been a complication of his situation or anything of the sort. The doctor guaranteed him so, again and again, that having found Takashi Shirogane any earlier wouldn’t have saved him from the chronic circumstances that affected the boy’s muscles.  _ Genetics _ , the doctor guessed, but without prior family records, it was impossible to be absolutely certain. 

Aside from some medication for any inevitable pain, there was little that could be done without insurance or a foster family to watch over the boy and assure he would have some medical attendance. It would be gradual, however, worsening the older he got.

Chances were, Takashi Shirogane wouldn’t make it past sixteen.

He took Matt to kindergarten after that short visit. Went to work. Told a bunch of college students about some laws of physics. Went to the hospital again.

Takashi was already sleeping.

Then, Samuel Holt went home with take-out for the family; Matt’s favourite, a mix of grilled meats, with a side of rice and fries. He was greeted with a hug from his son and a kiss on the cheek from his dear wife. They ate together at the kitchen table, and it wasn’t until Matt was put to bed, along with his bunny plush, that Colleen Holt confronted him.

“You went to the hospital again, didn’t you?”

Sam smiled with a hint of sadness instead of replying with words. They both sat in their shared bed, the bedside lights on as they both indulged in different books on their respective holo tablets. Colleen’s tone wasn’t accusatory, but rather concerned. He realized that he could fool just about anyone if he so wished, but not his own wife. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

_ He was indeed exhausted. Helpless, even though there wasn’t much he could do. _

“I think it’s very sweet, and I would expect nothing less of someone with a heart as kind as yours,” Colleen said, her slender fingers tapping the screen to turn a digital page of the ebook, “but you have to remember to take care of yourself too, darling.”

She was right, as she always was. When they first met it was in a heated debate about types of modulation, and she was right; she said they should go out for coffee together and she was right; she said they should kiss, and good Lord,  _ was she right _ . 

He told Colleen all about the meeting with the doctor.

That night, Sam slept with a calm he hadn’t known in weeks, his hand over Colleen’s pregnant belly, and he dreamed of girl names.

But he also dreamt of big brothers, and when he woke up, he had an idea that he held onto for a few days before bringing it up to his wife.

She was completely aghast. “Samuel Elias Holt.  _ Absolutely not. _ ”

He didn’t bring it up for a few days, but it still pressed on the back of his mind. It may have been a week when he mentioned it once more.

“But just imagine it,” Sam pressed on, walking around the kitchen table behind Colleen, who prepared Matt’s lunch. “Takashi is an adorable kid, he would be such a good older brother for Matt to play with, and our baby girl too! We’d have a full house like we always dreamed of—”

“And how do you expect we  _ pay  _ for that?!” The volume of her voice lowered and she looked at the door to make sure they were alone before continuing, “We weren’t even expecting another baby right now. How can you possibly think it’s a good idea to have  _ another  _ child here? With the problems —  _ God help the poor soul _ — he may have? We’re not ready for this, Samuel!”

Sometimes it hurt how Colleen was always right. It was a terrible idea, fueled only by Sam’s inherent need to  _ help _ .

“Sam… Listen to me,” Colleen wiped her hands to the apron she wore before cupping her husband’s cheeks to force him to look at her in those beautiful, sincere eyes. “You can’t save them all. It’s not your duty. Your duty is to this family. It’s Matt and it’s Katie and it’s  _ me _ .”

He knew that. He knew that the only superhero cape that fit him was the one Matt had crafted in kindergarten for Father’s Day, the year prior. He knew it wasn’t his responsibility to take in a boy he had found on the street like some stray cat and take over his parenthood as if entitled to it.

“I can’t...  _ not _ try, Colleen. He’s one of the brightest young people I’ve ever seen and he deserves a chance. His life will be over before it even begins. Matt loves him, and our little Katie will too.”

“Please,” she begged, shaking her head, “Don’t make me the bad guy in this situation, especially when you know  _ I’m  _ right.”

“Just... meet him,” Sam said, and already Colleen was holding back her tears, “Please, give him a chance. He was never given a chance before—”

“No! We cannot, as much as you’d like, take care of  _ three _ children! One of which isn’t even born yet!” The volume of her voice rose with her indignation, and Sam just wanted to apologize, over and over, for being so stupid for even suggesting something as insane as becoming Takashi’s adoptive family.

He opened his arms to let his wife fall onto his chest, and as she cried, he did too. It was unfair for Colleen that he would ask it of her. She was such a wonderful woman, the strongest, bravest woman Sam had ever known. 

The thought of letting Takashi go weighed on him; he didn’t know if he would be capable of doing that. Matt already adored him too, there was no fair way of cutting that out of his son’s life. It would be even harder to explain when—

Sam’s tears flowed along to Colleen’s, mumbled apologies turning into inaudible sobs, the hug tightening from both sides.

Hurried footsteps from the stairs had them both quickly rubbing their eyes dry and force smiles on their faces automatically as Matt entered the kitchen, “Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaad! Dad! Tomorrow is Takashi’s birthday! It says here,” the young hazel haired boy pointed at the calendar he had ripped from his bedroom wall, “Fer...bru...ary! 29! Can we go see him? Can we can we can we can weeee?”

Sam had to hold his breath for a very long time; so long that some oxygen may have failed to reach his brain because he was feeling like he was about to pass out. Nausea pooled up in his mouth, acidic taste travelling upwards from his stomach. Sooner or later, he would have to tell Matt that they couldn’t visit Takashi anymore.

“And we can take him a cake! I’ll ask Grandmama to make it! He’ll like the lemon cake, with that yummy frosting!”

He would have to tell his son that Takashi would go to an orphanage, where another family would  _ maybe _ pick him out, and take him to their homes, and prepare a bedroom for him, pay for his meals, clothing and student fees, and most urgently, his medical bills.  _ Maybe _ , _ maybe, maybe, _ and maybe, they would never see Takashi Shirogane again.

Sam lowered himself to support all his weight on one knee, eyes levelled with Matt’s, who tilted his head.

“What? Were you crying, Dad?” The boy asked. Sam’s heart completely self-destructed. “Did you stub your toe again?”

“Sonnie... we can’t go see Takashi.”

He heard Colleen approaching behind him, her hand on his shoulder.

“But… it’s gonna be his birthday! I have a drawing I made for him! Wanna see it, Pop? It’s me and him and you, and we’re in space!”

“Mattie… we—”

“We won’t go, Matt,” Colleen interrupted him, and Sam was only half-glad for that. She squeezed his shoulder some more as if reminding him to keep his back straight, to be strong, to take the opportunity to teach Matt that sometimes things don’t go as wished. “We won’t go because your dad will be picking him up. We’ll have a little party for him here. How does that sound?”

It took… some time for Sam to register what had happened. He looked up at his woman, this absolute  _ goddess _ he had been given the honour to  _ marry _ , the kindest soul in the whole wide world. She smiled at him through the tears still in her eyes, and he felt like imploding at the mere thought of how lucky he was that Colleen Holt was his.

* * *

It was the first time Takashi tried on the jeans; they were a little loose on his skinny hips, but as soon as he put on some healthy amount of weight on those bones, the pants would be just the right size. As for the t-shirts, they were definitely too large, exposing his collarbones. He didn’t mind it, but that was maybe because he was more terrified of what was to come next.

Sam promised he’d be gentle. That if Takashi so wished, they would do it gradually and they didn’t even have to do it that day. But in a whim of trust, he allowed Sam to cut his hair any way he thought would be more presentable, even if that meant shaving all of his head.

Now, Sam would never do that, but his military background made him find more practicality in having shorter hair. Takashi’s hair brushed his shoulders and the bangs tickled his nose by then. Lock after lock fell on the hospital bathroom floor, pitch-black contrasting with a tile of pristine white, and then came the buzzing of the clipper, shaving the hair at the back of his neck to give him a lightness he didn’t remember having. Sam left some hair on top of his head, and a little forelock thing. He knew of the boy’s tendency to hide behind his fringe and didn’t want to rob him of that mechanism just yet.

It was by no means a professional cut, but Takashi liked it, Sam realized, as he kept rubbing the undercut during the whole trip to the Holts’ residence.  _ It feels good _ , he said, before forcing his hands down to his lap.

It wasn’t until they pulled into the driveway that Sam noticed the boy’s nervousness.

“You don’t have to be scared. It’ll be the exact same thing as when we’re in your room, except there’ll be homemade cannolis and cake, and my wife, Colleen.”

“... What if Mrs Holt doesn’t like me?”

“That’s not something you should be worrying about,” Sam promised, removing his seatbelt and shifting so that he’d be facing the boy. “She’s been wanting to meet you ever since I told her about you, and you know Matt doesn’t shut up about you either,” that last bit earned him a smile, “What she really wants is for you to feel… at home with us.”

_ Too soon, Sam, too soon. _

Takashi seemed to relax a little, and they left the car only when the boy was ready. Sam opened the door to let him in ahead and tried to imagine what it would be like for someone to walk into that house for the first time.

For starters, it smelled  _ divine _ ; Colleen always made the pasta for the cannolis from scratch, and let the sauce simmer with the meat until it was cooked just perfectly. It was enough to make anyone’s mouth water. She had discussed with Sam any allergies Shiro might have and engineered a special menu, dessert and all, without any lactose.

There was a long carpet that paved the hallway and a staircase immediately to the right, leading up to the bedrooms and the upstairs bathroom — a tour was in order after the introductions. There were several pictures on the wall, some creative paintings by Matt, photographs of Italy and Colleen’s side of the family. The hallway would lead to the living room; an archway on the left would take them to the kitchen.

He thought that he shouldn’t point out that there was no need for Takashi to remove his shoes and leave them by the door, since the boy had done that already.

“Oh, Mattie! Wanna see who’s at the door?” Sam heard Colleen’s voice from the kitchen and almost instantaneously, his son slid into the corridor, smile bright with excitement.

“Takashi! Your hair!” Matt laughed, jumping around him, little hand reaching to rub at the shaved undercut. “It’s so cool!”

“You like it?” Takashi said, leaning down so that the other child could reach it.

Colleen had poked out of the kitchen, reaching behind her to undo the apron. She had a beautiful warm smile, the gorgeous bump on her stomach, and Sam kinda fell in love with her all over again. “So you’re Takashi. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you! I’m Colleen.”

Takashi looked behind his shoulder as if to make sure that Sam was still there. He assured him that he was, with a hand on his shoulder, which remained there until Takashi had found enough confidence to answer. “Hi… Thank you for inviting me to your home.” The kid politely bowed, an exaggerated formality for what they were used to, and Sam noticed how Colleen widened her eyes in surprise.

“It’s our pleasure to have you here!”

“Mummy, I’ll show Takashi my room!” Matt announced, tugging on their guest’s hand and running with him towards the stairs.

“Lunch will be ready soon, boys, be back downstairs in ten!” she called after them, seeing their figures completely fly up the stairs.

Sam allowed himself to fantasize about the domesticity of that image. Was it so odd to want that to be a reoccurring thing on Sunday lunches? He shortened the distance between him and Colleen, his hand on her belly when he leaned in to kiss her temple.

“He was scared you’d hate him.”

“My God, who would’ve known,” she laughed, rolling her eyes, “He seems to be very shy. But it’s… truly beautiful to see him trusting you.”

It was Sam’s turn to blush a little. It meant so much to him that he had actually managed to build a connection with the boy he had rescued; that was a way of guaranteeing he’d always have a place in Takashi’s heart, just as his own heart had given way to fit the kid.

He took a deep breath, shoulders sinking with the gesture. “While Mattie shows him around, I’m going to help myself to some of that garlic bread I know you made.”

Colleen gasped and playfully chased after him, “Oh, no, you’re not! You’re waiting like everybody else!”

It was Sam who set the table, and he made a point to use the “good” china, the same he always insisted on putting up when his parents-in.law came over. White porcelain with a silver line around the plate. Were they too fancy for the occasion?  _ Nah, they’d be perfect. _ He couldn’t think of a better excuse to use them, in fact.

They were all sitting around the table when the oven alarm ticked. Colleen brought over the round cast-iron casserole dish and set it in the middle of the table, dairy-free marinara sauce bubbling around the cannelloni tubes, fresh parsley on top, vegan cheese incredibly fragrant. Matt was already moaning upon imagining the taste in his mouth, and Sam wasn’t far behind that reaction himself, but Takashi had his hands on his lap, apprehensively looking at the food.

Sam served Takashi first as the rules of good manners demanded, followed by little impatient Matt, Colleen and then himself, tucking the cloth napkin on his collar before digging in.

Oh, his wife never disappointed. The food was absolutely delicious, an extra sprinkle of care to season a perfectly cooked pasta, with the juiciest sauce and the most tender meat. Maybe he had been a little reluctant about the vegan cheese at first, but the spice it brought to the dish was transcendent.

“Dad, Takashi knows the name of every spaceship model you have upstairs!” Matt announced, blowing at the portion of food on his fork before shoving it into his mouth. He didn’t even swallow before continuing, “And Calypso is his favourite!”

“Oh! Is that so?” Sam smiled, casting a look at Colleen who seemed surprised, “That’s impressive! I’m going to have to show you my book collection. You can pick one out to take with you if you’d like!”

The boy simply nodded, the smile almost ghostly, barely there. It was always so hard for him to be comfortable, and Sam wouldn’t hold it against him. He had already given in to the idea of visiting the Holts’ household, it was only to be expected that he wouldn’t immediately feel one hundred percent at ease in a new environment, with one new person, different types of food. It would be a slow process, but he wanted him to know that Sam would be more than willing to help.

Takashi seemed… reluctant to accept the food. Not as if it wasn’t appetizing for him, as he was only one step away from salivating on his plate. Sam didn’t want to pressure him (the folk in the hospital mentioned he was eating better even though he took his own time), but it was Colleen who asked, “Is the food not to your liking? I can make you something else if you prefer!”

“No, I… It’s good. I just…” Takashi clumsily fumbled with the fork and knife, poking at the portion of food on the plate. Sam tried not to look too firmly at the boy until he took the first bit of cannelloni to his mouth. He chewed very slowly, for a very long time, a little blush growing in his cheeks.

The conversation became easier gradually. Matt, as obnoxious as he was, pulled their guest into the conversation without much effort, and in no time, Takashi had managed to put an honoured smile in Colleen’s face.

“Your food is really good, Ma’am. I don’t think I’ve ever had anything so delicious. Thank you so much for the meal,” he said with a few pauses as if he were scared of stuttering, fingers fidgeting under the table.

It was unspoken that they’d skip the birthday song and the candles, to avoid making the boy uncomfortable by lowering the lights and clapping too loud. The cake was very pleasant, a storebought gluten and dairy-free option, since much to her own dismay, Colleen hadn’t had the time to bake a cake herself.

None of the boys minded, however, and dug in with tremendous bliss. While Matt and Shiro nearly licked their dessert plates, Sam and Colleen brought some of the china to the kitchen and left it on the countertop by the sink.

Sam’s arm curled around his wife’s back, his step close to a dance when he held her, swinging from side to side. “What do you think of him?”

Colleen’s smile was tender. “He’s very sweet. Intelligent. Polite.”

“You melted before our very eyes when he complimented your cooking—” Sam joked, giggling when the woman pinched his arm.

“It really saddens me… his situation,” she admitted, head gently falling on Sam’s shoulder. He ran his fingernails through the blonde hair on her nape, scratching softly. Colleen finally understood why it would be so hard to let go of a boy who, without trying, became so important to him.

“It’s not fair...” Her thin arms wrapped around Sam’s neck, his back against the archway, the tips of their noses brushing. “… I’ll talk to my sister. Maybe she can give us some legal insights, and of course, you’d have to ask Shiro if he even  _ wants  _ this.”

“Of course,” Sam agreed, every brain cell in his head already jumping in anticipation. The wife was truly considering the adoption, and he was already imagining how they could adapt Matt’s room to fit another bed since the study upstairs would have to serve as little Katie’s bedroom eventually—

“What are you doing?” Colleen asked, all calm and serenity, but Takashi jumped where he stood by the running water in the sink, losing the grip on one of the plates and letting it fall to the floor. It cracked in three bigger pieces, smaller knacks of porcelain scattered about the kitchen floor.

Sam walked there immediately, picking up the bigger shards with his hand and telling the boy to step back so he wouldn’t step on anything and get hurt. But Takashi didn’t move at all. He merely stood there, hands shaking, absolute terror in his already teary eyes. “I’m—s-so sorry!” He babbled, barely any cohesive syllable, sobs adorned with panic.

He was absolutely  _ horrified _ .

“Hey, buddy, don’t worry. We’re not mad. Happens all the time!” Sam assured in a comical tone, but to no avail.

“I just... wanted to help, and you… did so much for me, and it’s just doing the dishes, I can do it and I thought I could thank you—” It wasn’t until Colleen came over that Takashi silenced himself, the hug unexpected, shocking the boy into immobility, eyes wide as the last of his tears ran down his face.

How long had it been since he had been hugged? How long had it been since someone told him it was okay to make mistakes? It was okay to break dishes, it was okay to be sad about it, but there was no reason for him to  _ fear  _ any consequence out of it.

“It’s alright,” Colleen said, and she might have been crying as well, “From this day forward, let that plate be the only broken thing in this house. We’ll fix everything else up together.”


	2. Chapter 2

Sam adjusted the honour medals on the right side of Takashi’s chest, above his rapidly beating heart. They fit him perfectly, the gold discs with the coloured ribbons, representing bravery, service and loyalty. They showed off his years in the service of the Galaxy Garrison, the rank he held, the success of his missions (national, international and galactic), the world’s gratefulness for his survival. And the most special of all: a black enamel symbol of the Voltron ‘V’, five fringes of red, purple, blue, yellow and green hanging from it. 

The boy he had found on the streets of Plath City, nearly twenty years ago, had grown into one of the finest men Sam had ever known; a man of pride and sensibility, of power and respect. A man filled with scars, old and new, glowing in happiness.

Takashi Shirogane was a hero, and Sam couldn’t be any more proud.

“Nervous?” He asked.

“Why should I be?” Takashi smiled, fixing his hair on the mirror for the eleventh time that morning, “It’s not like Keith’s gonna say no… Is he?”

_ Oh, he was dead nervous. _

“Of course he’s not, sweet pea,” Sam assured, recalling his own wedding day and how absolutely terrified he was, even when he stood next to Colleen and she looked at him as if he had hung the stars in the sky himself, he still feared that she would simply turn on her crystal heels and leave him standing there like a fool.

Alas, she hadn’t done it, and they had been married for nearly thirty years.

A sigh of relief escaped Takashi’s lips and the two of them laughed together in the privacy of the Admiral’s private quarters. 

“But it _ is _ a big day,” Sam added, “One you’ll always remember and hold close to your heart.”

“I should expect so,” Takashi leaned on the sink, examining his own reflection. “You’d think that after being made captive by a super-advanced race of aliens, losing my arm, facing the Dark Lord of the Universe, essentially dying in the process and being replaced by a clone while being stuck in a huge mechanical beast’s consciousness, being saved by the love of my life, only to come  _ back _ to life in the genetically modified corpse of my clone and defeat the Dark Lord’s deranged wife, I would have very little else to fear. But here I am, trembling all the way to my ankles. I don’t think I can walk, Sam,  _ Sam, I can’t move— _ ”

“Hey, hey, now, look at me,” Sam’s hands came to cup Takashi’s cheeks, squishing them playfully. “You’re babbling. Keith’s out there, waiting for you. I’m sure he’s nervous as well, but that’s just the realization that you’re embarking on another adventure. Like that sizzling sensation in the pit of your stomach when we first entered our ship to Kerberos, remember?”

Takashi bit his lip and nodded, “You’re right. I’m overreacting.”

Sam matched his own deep breaths with Takashi’s, mind drifting back to the time when Takashi was too skinny for his jeans, when he wouldn’t eat because he didn’t want to be a burden, when he would hide wounds to keep them from worrying.

When Sam and Colleen had shown him the adoption certificate and he cried for hours.

When he punched an older kid who had tried to steal Matt’s lunch at school, when he spent the whole night up glueing together Katie’s replica of a spaceship BaeBae had accidentally broken so she wouldn’t be sad when she woke up.

When he removed his braces. When he had to go to the hospital because of the lack of response on the muscles of his arms and legs.

When he cried, chest heaving, because he hadn’t been accepted in the first round of applications for the Kerberos mission, when he cried because he had, after all, been allowed to pilot the mission.

When he had returned to Earth, a hero, to become the Admiral of the Galaxy Garrison, a title almost meaningless when he and his friends had risked their lives to save the very fabric of existence.

Takashi Shirogane, a hero, an Admiral, a Paladin. A  _ son. _

Takashi Shirogane, the man who stood before him, on the morning of his wedding day just about to throw up for being too anxious, on the brink of a panic attack. Good grief.

“I’m…  _ immensely _ proud of you, Takashi. I love you.” Sam sighed, tears crystallizing in his eyes, his hands on Shiro’s shoulders. Takashi looked into his eyes and he didn’t seem so scared anymore.

  
“I love you too,  _ Dad _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was a commission for the most patient person I've ever known. I hope you enjoyed it, dear!  
> Speaking of commissions, why don't you head over to the pinned tweet on my Twitter @_abyssiniana? <3  
> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


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